She Paints Me Blue
by Queen of the Sugarplum Fairies
Summary: Matt arrives at Mimi's home in the middle of the night, intent on putting his heart on the line and revealing how he really feels. But will he be able to, and what will be the outcome if he does?


_This is sort of a songfic to Something Corporate's _"She Paints Me Blue"._ I am not allowed to post the lyrics here, but I do recommend you search for them at Google. They complement what I have written, I think. Anyway, enjoy!_

**She Paints Me Blue**

* * *

The night was black, dotted with stars breaking through the clouds. They shone down like silver coins glinting up from the bottom of a shadowed wishing well. Their soft light mingled with that from the flickering streetlamp under which Matt was standing.

The whole street was dark, the neighbourhood asleep. This silence was the way Matt liked it. Peaceful, serene. No competitive mowing syndrome, where all the men in the street felt the need to prove their masculinity through the proportional power of their mowers and how swiftly they cut through any rebellious grass in their yards. No dogs barking. No kids jumping rope on the sidewalk or playing soccer in their backyards. No women clicking their tongues and muttering about how a poor boy from the wrong side of town should not be seen in their fine white picket fenced community. Much less dating one of their fine young debutantes.

Mimi Tachikawa was the pride of Maple Street. Daughter of Max Tachikawa, prominent businessman and head of the Neighbourhood Watch Committee. Crowned queen of every dance she had ever been to. She could play the piano with a natural talent that rivalled any professional, and had the singing voice of a well trained angel. She was smart, well mannered, kind and, most importantly in this community, had an impeccable sense of style. She dressed in expensive, well-cut clothes, her hair was always perfect, and she looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine.

What she saw in Matt was anyone's guess. He'd shown up at her nationally renowned private school on a musician's scholarship. Initially he'd hated everyone and everything about the place. And he was fairly sure the feeling was mutual. Teachers pretended he wasn't there. Girls pointed and giggled at the way he wore his uniform. The boys, particularly those on the _district champion_ football team, would dearly have loved to get him alone in the park that adjoined the school grounds. Matt knew that, should that ever happen, they would be in for a rude awakening. They should know better than to harass someone from _his_ neighbourhood. Basic self defence was learnt at birth. He'd be able to take any of those carefully styled idiots. But he was well aware of the fact that his scholarship dangled on a fine, fine line. One slip up - just one disruption - and he'd be out of that school faster than you could say, "unfair". And besides any desire he had to finally make something of himself and his music, he would never give the school population the satisfaction of seeing him get kicked out.

So they all saw him as a piece of trash from the wrong side of the tracks, and he saw them as world-class snobs without the faintest idea of what life was really about. He had no desire to speak to any of them. Until one music lesson.

The teacher, alone in that he recognised Matt's presence, and, more importantly, his talent, had been calling assessments. One pitifully bad saxophone player had just sat down, looking smug. Never mind the fact he'd hit more wrong notes than a blind elephant, his father would probably slip a few bills into the Headmaster's pocket and he'd get his A anyway.

"Good, good," the teacher had mumbled, writing something down before checking his roll again. "Mimi Tachikawa, you're up."

The girl sitting next to Matt had stood. Matt had only recognised her as one of the many cheerleaders who spent their time swooning over the football jocks. Appraising her, she was certainly attractive. Long chestnut hair, smooth skin, feminine figure. But he'd been willing to bet his guitar that she had no real musical talent. Just another case of having enough money to buy whatever you wanted.

There weren't many times in Matt's life that he had been wrong. Certainly not many that he'd care to admit to. But this had been one of them. As the music had begun to play, and she had started to sing, the whole world seemed to fall away. She was amazing. Her voice was pure and unaffected. Everything complicated had been condensed down to her and her song, and nothing else mattered. Matt couldn't take his eyes off her.

When her song was over, everyone plunged painfully back down to earth. It was a sharp, unwanted return to reality as the stars she'd sung broke and tinkled to the floor. The whole class took some time returning from their daze, but eventually the teacher spoke.

"Excellent, Mimi, as always. Truly excellent…" he'd scribbled something that looked distinctly like a full mark, and then checked his watch. "I think that's all we have time for today. We'll keep assessing next lesson."

Matt had packed up and escaped as fast as he could. He never hung around after class, just in case he was accosted by a snotty rich boy. In general, he preferred to be alone. But on that day, he'd had company. Mimi had sped up, and was bouncing along next to him.

"You were staring at me the whole time I was singing. It was very off-putting, you know."

Matt had been shocked by the easy openness she had with someone she didn't even know. He'd had no idea how to respond. His usual caustic sarcasm had never been so inappropriate, and without it he'd felt naked, disarmed. His words had stumbled out jumbled and confused.

"I was surprised… you were fantastic… I didn't think… I didn't know… I didn't expect…"

Mimi had laughed, a sound that Matt had found scarily beautiful, even back then. Pirouetting on the spot, she'd cut him off easily. "You're so articulate. What you _mean_ is that you thought I was just another princess with a credit card. No actual born talent, but plenty of cash to buy it."

Matt was again shocked by her perception of character. She had caught him out; read his innermost thoughts like a map. And as embarrassing as that was, he was far too proud to ever deny his opinions.

"Something like that." He'd mumbled, feeling a light pinkness tinge his cheeks.

"That's okay," she'd replied, swinging her shoulder bag. "Most people think you're a hopeless, penniless nothing. I guess everyone has their own views on everyone else. Everybody has a box they fit into. Jock, nerd, cheerleader, muso… whatever. It doesn't matter in the end."

Matt had been mildly impressed by her blunt speech. He'd seen her as one girl who didn't dance around reality, whose eyes were not blinkered, and who called things the way she saw them. It was oddly refreshing. But still his defences had been up. If her forthrightness was a challenge, it was one he was willing to accept.

"And by saying _'most people'_, you're trying to distance yourself, right? Pretend like you've never giggled at me or thought I didn't belong."

She had stopped walking then. He'd stopped too, arms folded and awaiting a reply. She'd looked up at him, a slight frown on her face. Not a frown of anger or even of hurt, but rather a frown of thought. It was as if she could see something other than what was there. Something no one else could see. She'd studied his expression for a few moments, before grinning. She hit his arm playfully.

"You're good. I like you. My name's Mimi, by the way."

Too confused to think of something witty to say, he'd stupidly replied, "Matt."

Mimi had bumped him lightly, and had resumed walking. His brain was almost as useful as cotton wool. She'd made him forget where he was and what he was doing. She made him unsure of his most deeply rooted beliefs. She made him want to change and want to obstinately stay the same forever and ever. She made him question who he was, and even more, why he was. He had never thought that one girl could disarm him so effectively. Taking the bump as an invitation, he'd done the only thing his muddled up mind could come up with. He'd walked alongside her. And she'd smiled to see him there.

"Well, Matt, just so you know, I _did_ know you weren't a hopeless nothing, and I _never_ thought you didn't belong. I've heard you play your guitar, and nobody who's that talented; that passionate; could ever amount to nothing."

And so their unorthodox friendship had begun. It had been quite some time before I had evolved into anything more, and quite some time after that before Matt had been able to gather the courage to do something about it.

And now here he was, outside her home in the middle of the night. The breeze cut sharply across the neighbourhood wilderness, rustling the trees and scattering anything that wasn't firmly secured. Matt sunk his hands into his jeans pockets for warmth. What was he doing here? He was freezing half to death, deeply contemplating their relationship and their past and wondering what planets had aligned in Heaven to bring two such different people together. How was it possible that he could be so awake, and she could still sleep? Didn't she ever think about this like he did? Knowing Mimi, possibly not. She was far more accepting of these sorts of things; far less cynical. She called it fate, or destiny. Matt wasn't sure if he believed in either.

So why was he still standing there on the icy pavement, even as rain started to drizzle down the back of his neck? He had come to tell her something he had never before been able to say. And he was so afraid of losing her over three little words. He tried to hide it, but there was no denying. He relied on her the way he swore he'd never rely on anyone. He depended on her, despite his philosophy that people would always let you down. And now it all came down to three syllables. Three beats; not even a whole bar. He could play them, but they just couldn't get past his lips.

It had been about a week ago that _she_ had said them, and truly meant it. Before she'd laugh and say she loved him, but it was the love that was much akin to her love of peanut butter, or her shoes, or her giant teddy named Snowy. He could reply with anything from "Ditto" to "I know" and not get in trouble. But this time had been different. They'd been in his apartment watching some old romantic movie. Matt had been sitting on the floor, his back against the sofa. Mimi had been lying on the sofa, gently playing with his hair. Suddenly she'd sat up and slid to the floor next to him. Cuddling up close, she'd looked him straight in the eyes and said, _"I love you"_.

And Matt had known that this time, it was the real thing.

He'd wanted to say it back; honestly he'd tried. His whole heart and soul was brimming with the love stuff. But somehow he just couldn't manage it. Mimi hadn't seemed to mind his tongue tied falterings, but you never could tell. He couldn't stand to lose her over it. He had nothing - _was _nothing - without her. His love was beneath the surface; underground, but tonight he was determined to set it free. He _had_ to tell her tonight, or the terror would keep him quiet forever. His fear of putting himself out and facing rejection would get the best of him. And he'd always sworn that none of his fears would master him. His reserved nature was enough of a strike against him. The pressure was on, and he _would_ prove himself up to the challenge.

Mimi's bedroom was on the second floor of the Tachikawa mansion. It was a huge room filled with every conceivable luxury. But what else could you expect for the only child of two wealthy, adoring parents? Her room also came complete with a balcony looking out onto the perfectly manicured back garden. It was this balcony that Matt was relying on.

Taking one last moment to pray that he could make this work, he left his position on the sideline footpath. Huddling against the rain; a rather wasted effort considering he was already wet to the bone; he quickly moved around to the backyard. Once there, he scaled their old oak tree as fast and quietly as he could. Mimi had used this very tree to sneak down to him more times than he could count. Hoping that it could hold his weight, he swung from a slippery branch and dropped stealthily onto the white tiled gallery. Thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't plummeted to the rose bushes below, he looked in through the glass sliding doors.

He could see Mimi's big pink canopy bed. He knew it well. Mimi liked the company when her mother and father were away on business trips. And lying in it, her profile illuminated by the weak light streaming in from the street, was Mimi. She was so beautiful, her hair fanned out from her face as she slept. Matt almost didn't want to wake her. But he had to. He rapped lightly on the glass panel, and louder again when there was no response.

Mimi woke immediately at the more forceful noise, sitting upright in bed with the covers held to her chest. Looking over to the doors, Matt knew she could see his figure silhouetted in the dark. He suddenly realised that he could be anybody to her, and mentally chastised himself for being so thoughtless. A potential psychopath outside your room, how romantic.

"It's me," he called softly. "Matt."

With those words, Mimi kicked off the doona and hurried to the light switch. The sudden brightness was a shock to Matt's eyes, but he was thankful for it nonetheless. Mimi then padded over to her balcony doors and unlocked them, quietly sliding them open so that he could enter. Closing them and then the curtains against the pouring rain outside, she turned to Matt. She was clothed only in a very short, very brief lacy silk nightgown, and had her arms folded under her breasts as concession to the cold. To Matt, she looked as amazing as ever. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into him and kiss her with all the passion he had. But her hushed voice brought him back from his desires.

"What are you doing here? My mum and dad are home! It's raining… and you're soaked! Let me get you a towel."

Rushing to her en suite bathroom, she returned with the kind of fluffy white towel that most people keep only for display. Matt, dripping from everywhere, was reluctant to use it. But Mimi wrapped it around his shoulders and began rubbing him, both to dry and warm his ice-cold skin. After a few moments, she stopped. Pulling back, she gazed at Matt with an odd expression on her face. Reaching out and twirling a wet strand of his hair around her finger, she laughed.

"You're kind of cute when you're all wet."

And then, somehow, her warm lips were on his cold ones. Forgetting how wet he was, she moved into him, moulding to the lines of his body. He intensified the kiss, placing both his hands on her hips and rolling them in figure-eights against his own. Moving his musician's fingers just a little, he realised she wasn't wearing anything under her nightie. Arousal was kicking in, and he was struggling to fight it back. Sucking in a short breath, he knew he had to say it now, before things went any further.

He broke their kiss. Mimi looked disappointed. Matt took that as a good sign. He got down on his knees and looked up at her.

"Mi… I've come here tonight to…"

He was about to launch into his profession of love when a roar was heard from somewhere in the vicinity of Mimi's bedroom door.

"WHO IS THIS BOY?" bellowed Mimi's father, Max, who was rapidly turning a deep shade of puce and whose knuckles were clenched white. He wasn't a big man, but his fury would make him powerful in a fight. Matt didn't want it to come to that. Standing behind Mimi's father was Mimi's mother, who was wrapped in a silk dressing gown, holding a cordless phone, and looking thoroughly bewildered at the whole situation.

Both Mimi and Matt jumped with fright at the sudden, unwanted intrusion. Mimi spun to face her parents. Visibly quailing at Max's obvious anger, she tried to placate him.

"Dad… this is Matt."

Max grunted. Losing some of his previous pitch, but none of the colour from his face, he asked, "So, you know him then? How?"

Twisting her hands together and staring at the floor, Mimi replied hesitantly, "He goes to my school."

"_And he is my boyfriend." _Matt silently finished for her. But the words never came. Mimi fell silent as she continued to gaze at the fluffy pink carpeting. Matt was confused. Why wasn't she claiming him? Sure, it'd look bad to have her boyfriend in her room in the middle of the night, but it would look much worse if he were just some stranger.

"Well. What is he doing here?" huffed Max, his eyes narrowed.

"I don't know, Daddy. Honestly."

Something just didn't seem right. Mimi wasn't acting at all like herself. Ordinarily she was known for her blunt honesty and her inability to ever keep anything quiet. No secret was safe with her. But now she was being so coy, so evasive, acting like she barely knew him. Playing up her innocence and in doing so, casting aspersions on him. Was she… ashamed of him? She had defended him in the face of everyone who ever doubted him, but now with her parents on the scene… everything was wrong, somehow.

And now Max was advancing on him.

"Now, look, son. You seem nice enough, so I'm just going to ask you reasonably to leave. We won't call the authorities. But you stay away from Mimi from now on. She has a wholesome boyfriend already, and a steady life. She doesn't need you to complicate matters."

Matt felt Max's hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him to his feet. But that short speech had left him unable to move. And he'd never wanted to stand up less in his life. He shot a look at Mimi, who was biting her bottom lip unhappily. She remained silent and refused to look at him. This pushed him over the edge.

"Wholesome boyfriend?" he spat, pushing Max aside as he rose sharply to his feet. "_I'm _her boyfriend. We've been dating for nearly a year!"

Both her parents seemed to take a step back at this. Her father regained his composure first. "Mimi! Is this true? I thought your boyfriend was an honour roll footballer…"

Mimi remained silent. Matt couldn't believe what was happening. Who was this girl? Certainly not the Mimi he had fallen for. Not even the Mimi he'd been kissing five minutes ago. This was a shadow Mimi, the Mimi from the other side of the mirror. He had no business with her. Striding towards the door, he turned just before exiting.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Max, Rose." He looked across at Mimi, finally catching her eye. Holding it, he continued. "Maybe there was nothing for me here. Mimi, I only came here tonight to tell you… I came to tell you that I love you."

And with that, he spun on his heel and began walking off down the hall, his hands jammed in his pockets. Mimi, still rooted to the spot, had to take a moment to realise what was going on. She didn't know what to do. He was Matt, love of her life. But they were her parents. What would they think? What would happen next? Shutting her eyes and trying to block out all of her doubts, she cried out.

"Matt, I love you too."

* * *

Ten minutes later they were sitting on Mimi's front porch. Max and Rose, bewildered, had returned to bed, leaving them to talk. Mimi spoke first, shattering the uneasy silence that had settled between them.

"Matt, I'm so sorry. I should have told them, I know that…"

"So why didn't you?" He cut her off, his tone hard.

Mimi stuck one foot out to catch the rain. Rivulets of water trickled down her toes. "Because… because they're my parents. They come from this world. They wouldn't understand. When I told them I was seeing someone, they both just jumped to their conclusions. And I tried to tell them differently, I really tried, but I simply couldn't. They _do_ both want what's best for me; deluded as they are; and I wanted them to be proud of me." She sighed, shaking her head before continuing. "My parents, they're _always_ away, and they don't know me at all. They have this illusion of their perfect daughter, and I can never bring myself to break it. Please Matt, try to understand. Don't hate me. I couldn't go on living if you did."

Matt shivered. He tried to blame the cold; the fact that he was still damp and probably growing mildew. But he knew the real reason. He couldn't go on living without her either. Eventually he snuck his arm around her waist, pulling her into him. "Mi, I could never hate you. You're my reason for breathing at all."

And though they were not spoken, three little words seemed to float around them in the air.

_I love you…_


End file.
